The Battle of the North
by Drachma20
Summary: Set in the golden age of Narnia. The war with the giants of the North is raging and things don't look so good. With High King Peter and King Edmund battling it out on the North, Queen Susan and Queen Lucy fight the politicians of Archenland in hopes to send them packing before they can arrange a marriage.
1. Chapter 1 (Peter and Edmund)

Sword clashed. The noise of battle raged with the deafening thunderstorm above. The rain poured down drenching the kings and their army.

"Peter!" Edmund called, stabbing one of his swords into a giants heel and bringing him down, "We need to retreat!"

"No!" Peter yelled back, "We can still do this!"

"Be reasonable!" Edmund cried as more Giants entered the battle, "Our troops are injured badly, we've lost many. Let's fall back until we have back up and a better plan than just leaping headfirst into battle."

Peter gave him a short glare and stabbed another giant.

"Fine!" he snapped, picking up his fallen shield. "Fall back!" he bellowed, "We need to fall back now!"

The horns sounded and the Narnians began to retreat. Since the war had started, they had barely gained an inch on the opposing side: the giants of the north.

The defeat of the White Witch had brought them friends and enemies. Sadly, it seemed there were more enemies than friends.

The Narnians only ally was Archenland. They wouldn't however send desperately needed support to the Narnians when they called for aid. Not to mention other issues that desperately needed resolving.

Back at camp, Peter hurled his sword and shield into the corner of the tent he and Edmund were sharing. It was mentally and physically exhausting keeping the northern giants invasion at bay. He sat down on the bedding mat more roughly than intended and flinched when an injury he had obtained a few days ago protested painfully. He waited, with his head down, for one of his brother's comments.

Edmund, thankfully, kept his mouth shut.

Peter looked up at him from where he was seated.

"How much longer can we keep this up?" he asked.

Edmund hesitated a moment and bit his lip.

"I don't know," he replied, "There's no telling what might happen next in this war."

Peter raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"You're lying." he decided. Edmund opened his mouth as if to say something, decided against it, and simply nodded.

Peter sighed.

"How long?" he asked again.

"Two months at most." Edmund sighed, "We're in some serious trouble."

"And there's really no peaceful way to resolve this." Peter looked at his brother silently begging him to tell him that, yes, there was a way and, no, it didn't include Susan marrying the king of Giants or Edmund being cropped at the neck.

"I'm 'fraid not." Edmund sat down on his bedding roll. There were rings under his eyes and he looked pale. Peter noticed his brother was having difficulty simply staying awake. He needed to sleep.

"Get some sleep," Peter told Edmund.

Edmund nodded, too exhausted to argue. "You'll wake me if there's anything, right?" he asked.

Peter just nodded. He watched Edmund struggle into a sleeping position and toss the thin blanket over himself. Then he reached over and tucked him in like he had when Edmund had been little. His brother gave him a small, tired smile and drifted off almost instantly.

Peter smiled. He remembered those wonderful days. Edmund had always been asking him to play games or for Susan to read to him and he'd been very protective over Lucy despite only being two years older than her. In turn Lucy had been very fond of Edmund and had often been seen clinging onto his hand as they walked around the house pretending different objects were magical and making up different things for them to do.

Peter's favourite story of theirs had been the kettle that "told the future". He had always liked to know what was coming next.

In that very moment, he wished for that magic kettle very much.


	2. Chapter 2 (Susan and Lucy)

"I cannot allow this!" Susan fumed, "How dare they even suggest this?!"

She slammed the piece of parchment on the table with enough force to make the it quake. Susan was normally a calm and gentle person, with a kind and giving nature but some things were not things she would tolerate.

"No one is forcing you to -" Lucy began carefully only to be interrupted.

"They seem to wish they could!" Susan exclaimed angrily, "The councilmen seem determined to have me marry for an aliance with Archenland!"

"They cannot do this without your consent," Lucy reminded her.

"They certainly are trying their hardest!" she snapped. Then she took a deep breath. "They will not succeed." Susan stated, sounding like she was trying to convince herself.

"No," Lucy agreed, "They won't." She sounded so determined when she said this, that Susan began to calm down. Lucy had a way of making people believe things that seemed impossible.

"We will find a different way to get them to lend us troops to help in the North." Susan said, sounding calmer.

"And we need to focus on that now," Lucy told her, "We need the help, if Edmund and Peter's report is anything to go by."

"Peter and Edmund wrote that they could do with what they had until the end of this month." Susan looked thoughtful. "That gives us until the end of this month to figure something out."

Lucy sat down at the table and stared hard at the flower adorning it, her tongue stuck out in thought.

After a moment, Susan sat down next to her.

"Maybe we could go help?" Lucy suggested.

Susan gave a small, sad smile. "I don't think two people are going to make much of a difference, Lu. We also still need troops here incase Calormen or someone else get's any ideas."

"We still have some time." Lucy reminded her. Susan always seemed to assume the worst and worried too much.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

"Come in!" Lucy called.

A fawn stepped in looking extremely nervous.

"My Queens," he said, "The council demands your presence immediately."

Susan's mood soured again. Nevertheless she put on a smile and thanked the Fawn for letting them know. She waited until he was out of the room before turning to her sister.

"And that puts another dampener in my day," she said.

"They're persistent." Lucy stood up and grabbed the piece of parchment that had offended her sister earlier.

"They have no idea how stubborn we can be yet." Susan's face was how it was when she fought. Calm, calculating and promising defeat. "We will get the soldiers we need," she said, "Our brothers need our help and I for one shall not fail them."

"Nor shall I," Lucy said, "Now, I do think we have some councilmen to talk to?"

"Let's get this over with," said Susan, standing up.

Together, the sisters strode out of the room and in the direction of the council room. They walked with such purpose, that you could almost feel the great Lion accompanying their steps.

Lucy threw the door open, startling everyone inside the room. The envoys from Archenland and the Narnian council jumped to their feet to bow to the queens.

"Arise gentlemen," Susan ordered, "We have much to discuss."

"Indeed we do, my Queen," a very old crow said, "The envoys from Archenland seem to insist on your marriage to their oldest prince."

"I've heard." Susan sat down at the large table in the middle of the room. Lucy sat down next to her.

"I may be rather young," Lucy said, eyes scanning the room, "but I do think that any talk of Queen Susan marrying anyone should include her and respect her opinion. Don't you agree?"

Murmurs of begrudging agreement ran around the room. The council and envoys did not look pleased. Lucy and Susan exchanged a look. It was time to deal with the old fashioned opinions again.


	3. Chapter 3 (Peter)

The men were huddled together around small fireplaces to keep warm. Thin woolen blankets were wrapped around the younger fighters and the injured while the nutrition was divided between the army. Nobody called it food. They weren't entirely sure it was, but it was edible. There wasn't much to go around but they tried their best to make do.

Harsh coughing could be heard from the makeshift infirmary tent. There was an area behind it where they burnt the dead. There were too many to bury. No-one, except the medics and the sick went within 20 metres of the tent. The fear of infection had spread a little faster than the disease. Not fast enough to save many from it's grasp.

Peter wished the war was over. The Narnians had tried to negotiate peace once and the messenger came back dead, his body being dragged by his horse and his severed head in the saddlebag. They hadn't tried again.

Peter had known the messenger well enough. He had had bright, happy eyes and had spoken of his family often. He had been very close with Edmund and they had often been seen joking together before everything went to hell and the giants had attacked the north of Narnia. Edmund, who found it hard to make friends, had trusted him with his life. The messenger, Yspian, had wanted to introduce the king to his family when they got back home. He had spoken of how his mother would love the boy and how wonderful her cakes were.

A lump built up in Peter's throat. Yspian would never see his mother again. Just like so many others in this chaos.

"My king!" Denlock, a centaur and one of the Narnian generals, came galloping up to him. He gave a respectful bow and continued urgently, "My king, there is a problem."

Peter took a deep breath, steadying himself. Another problem. Great. Just what they needed. "What is it Denlock?" he asked tiredly.

"The east camp has been overrun!" Denlock looked distraught, shifting where he stood, hooves scraping on the ground.

Peter gaped at him, not quite believing his ears. The east camp? Overrun? But they would have heard the giants!

"That is the mystery of it all, your majesty," Denlock said, eyes flicking to and fro, "We don't believe it was the giants. We don't know what it could have been either."

Peter stared at him. His face had gone pale in shock. How? Why? Who? Question after question appeared in his mind.

"Have the men search the site for anything that might give us a hint as to who's behind this," Peter ordered, "Be careful. We don't need to lose anyone else." More quietly, he added, "We can't afford to lose anyone else."

Denlock bowed and left. Peter looked around for his brother, expecting him to be behind him or on his right, before remembering that Edmund was still sleeping soundly in their shared tent.

He hurried back past many troops who looked like they hadn't slept in weeks. With everything that was going on, it wouldn't be suprising if that really was the case. He was sure he wore the same look. He knew Edmund did.

Peter's heart felt like a ton of bricks. His baby brother, with kind eyes and a heart of gold, was being forced to grow into a battle hardened soldier. It wasn't right, Peter thought. He didn't doubt Edmund's capability, nor his courage, but he was too young. It was only through obligation as a king that Edmund was there at all. Peter felt a sudden surge of anger at the crowns on their heads. If it hadn't been for them his brother would be safe in Cair Paravel.

Peter pulled back the flap covering the tent's entrance to find - nothing!


	4. Chapter 4 (Peter)

"Edmund!" Peter called scanning the area for his brother. Not spotting him he walked through the camp. Hastily, but walking none the less. If the men saw him panic, they would get scared. He had realised that pretty early on.

Terrified, his eyes flicked around, desperately trying to find Edmund. Where was he? He had to be around here somewhere.

"Ed?" he tried again. A sense of dread began to fill him.

Peter strode over to a group of soldiers, who he had obviously disturbed in their misery and who were now looking at him mildly concerned.

"I don't suppose you've seen my brother have you?" he asked, trying to seem casual. He had always been a terrible liar. His siblings never had an issue seeing through him. It seemed that went for other people aswell, because the soldiers were looking at him with very obvious worry.

"We believe that he is still in your shared tent, your majesty," said a faun.

"Perhaps you forgot out of exhaustion, my king," a dwarf suggested.

"I was just in that tent and he's not there." Peter rubbed a hand over his face, irritated. "And I'm not tired enough to not notice my brother!"

He mentally kicked himself. The soldiers now looked absolutely horrified.

"Look," Peter told them, "Could you quietly help me look for him, I'm sure he's around here somewhere." _I don't know what I'll do if he isn't_, he added on in thought.

The soldiers nodded hastily and got up bowing to him and scattering in different directions.

Some choice of fowl words escaped Peter on his next breath. He kicked a stone in his path and continued through the camp, the cold air biting his skin. Worry began to cloud his mind. He needed Edmund to be safe. He had promised Susan he would keep their little brother safe.

Denlock galloped up. He bowed and began talking, clearly in distress.  
"My king," he said, "We have found some dead, with a note."

The temperature of the air dropped, just like peters heart. His throat went dry. What if one of those bodies was Edmund?

"Who?" he demanded quietly. When Denlock didn't answer, he repeated himself louder, "WHO?"

"We cannot tell, your majesty." Denlock replied, bowing his head. "There are no heads."

Peter swallowed. He felt sick.

"And the note?" he asked, voice hoarse.

Denlock silently held out a piece of parchment. With trembling hands, Peter unrolled it. At first he found it odd that their adversary had used red ink, before realising that it wasn't ink at all. He almost vomited.

Focusing on the text, he read:

We have your king, weak little thing,  
can't hold a sword, but will end up on a chopping board,  
What kind it'll be, well, we shall see,  
Surrender to the giants or those we took will rest in silence.

In another situation Peter would have commented on the bad poetry and how cheesy it was. But at the moment, all he could do was stare at the red on the note. The same thoughts ran through his head over and over again. They were going to kill Edmund if they didn't surrender. He was almost glad nutrition was short because otherwise, he wasn't sure he could keep from emtying his insides onto the rocky surface of the mountains.

He weighed out his options.  
If they surrendered, Edmund would kill him. If anything happened to Edmund, Susan would kill him. Lucy wouldn't kill him no matter what he did, but if he made the wrong choice she was likely never to speak with him again, not to mention that she would be absolutely distraught if she lost one of her siblings. Be that Edmund or Peter.

In short, all his options were terrible and he had no idea what to do.

"Aslan save us all." he said, before realising he had spoken out loud.

"Amen." Denlock agreed.

"Gather the Captains and Generals," Peter ordered. "I need to discuss this."


	5. Chapter 5 (Susan)

The red-feathered arrow hit the target. Soon, it was followed by another and another.

Susan narrowed her eyes, aiming the umpteenth arrow of that day at the poor target that was ready to fall over from the abuse it suffered in her stone cold rage. She almost felt sorry for it.

She released the next arrow anyway.

"My Queen?" a quiet voice asked. Susan turned sharply, only to recognize a dryard who was often seen dancing around her tree in the courtyard. She worked as a servant in Cair Paravel. Diospria, the dryard, curtsied.

"Rise, Diospria," Susan said her anger momentarily disappearing, "What brings you here?"

"Begging your forgiveness ,your majesty," Diospria said, voice as even and smooth as the bark from her tree, "but I must ask why the envoys from Archenland remain. They set their sights on leaving several weeks ago. Everyone is asking about it, yet they worry they will offend you or her majesty, Queen Lucy, if they do so."

"And this is not your worry?" Susan asked curiously.

"I believe there is nothing amiss with asking questions from time to time." Dispora replied, more bravely than she felt.

"No," Susan agreed, "There isn't."

The Queen contemplated for a moment and then motioned to a nearby bench for them both to sit down on. Once seated, Susan began to talk.

"They seek an alliance," she said, "However the... specific terms of this alliance are still being discussed. This is taking longer than usual because a certain term concerns myself."

"They wish you to marry," Diospria guessed, her honey coloured eyes narrowing slightly. Through observation, she had discovered that nothing made the gentle queen angrier than others trying to force others into marriage when alliances could be arranged differently. Diospria couldn't blame her. As a dryard, she valued freedom highly. Her tree may have been in the same place from the beginning, but growing the way you were supposed to was something that required freedom.

_'You can't grow properly if someone is forcing you into a specific shape'_, someone had once told her.

"I assume you do not wish to do anything of the sort?" Diospria asked, just to make sure that Queen Susan was as unhappy as she looked. Humans were somewhat strange creatures when it came to, how they would say, settling down.

Susan nodded sourly. Diospria looked thoughtful for a moment before she spoke. "An alliance would be useful, as the battles in the north rage on. We may need the extra troops." She sighed. "There is however the issue that Archenland would have more political power in Narnia. My sister couldn't help but overhear the men talking of their plans."

"What plans?" Susan quiered, cocking her head to one side.

"Well, begging your pardon, my queen, but I heard from Oaklie, who heard from Calaeno, who was told by Diapatri, who said that Ivis was told by Ajuga who lives outside the windows of the guests quaters, that Archenland has been threatened by Calormen and they want Narnia's troops and land to gain power so that they may defeat the Calormens." Diospria hung her head as if she had done something wrong telling Susan this.

"So it's currently a lose-lose situation then," Susan decided. "We lose the troops, those in the north will face their ending. If I marry, the troops here will possibly be sent to their death aswell." She hung her head. There was no clear way out, was there?

Diospria placed a hand on the queens shoulder in comfort. "I believe, my queen, there is always a way out. Some just take more time than others."

"Time we may not have!" Susan pointed out. The battle in the north was taking it's toll on Narnia. Troops and resources were becoming less by the day. Not having the kings home safely yet was causing much worry amongst the land. What could she do?

The light breeze of Autumn brushed across the field, a gentle reminder of the trials to come. The queen sighed wearily.

"Winter is coming," she said.

"Yes, your majesty," Diospria agreed. "It will be a harsh one. Some of my brothers and sisters have gone to rest early this year."

"May Aslan help us all." Susan whispered.

They sat there in silence for a moment, like they were waiting for something. A glimpse of a golden mane, an echo of a roar or anything at all to let them know everything would be alright.


	6. Chapter 6 (Peter)

The Generals and Captains of the Narnian army gathered around their king.

Peter took a deep breath to compose himself. Then he spoke, his voice grave, "Generals, Captains, I have bad news."

Everyone regarded him quietly and seriously. Had it not been silent before, it certainly was now.

Peter continued, "My brother, King Edmund, has been captured by unknown enemies. They have given us an ultimatum. Either, we surrender to the giants or they... they..."

He couldn't get the words out.

"Or they kill him," one of the captains guessed. Peter nodded.

"Well, your Majesty?" another Captain asked. "What do we do?"

"That's what I have called you all here to discuss." Peter studied the men before him. Mentally, he was screaming, '_what is there to discuss? We save him, obviously! He is my little brother!'_

"We cannot surrender to the giants!" Captain Thergol, a dwarf insisted. He was known for his stubborness. "My King! If we surrender, they will overrun Narnia!"

"That may be true Thergol," General Halvar stated, "But we can not let King Edmund die!"

Thergol glared, "You say that only because you owe him your life! If he was in the same position as you are now, I do not believe he would say the same, do you?"

Peter opened his mouth to tell the dwarf some truths about his brother. Halvar got there first.

"He would and you know it!" Halvar growled, "In fact, King Edmund would do the same for anyone in this circle regardless of debts. I owe his majesty not only my life but my freedom aswell! Do not speak badly of him in my presence, I warn you!"

Thergol scoffed, "It is not my fault that you are so blinded by that. He betrayed Narnia before he fought for it!"

"King Edmund's past is of no current matter to the situation," Captain Agametrios interjected. "He has proven himself a worthy leader and a trustworthy man. I admit that I myself do not know what side of the argument I am on. This requires plenty of thought."

"And time we do not have," Captain Talrus said, sadly.

"What can we do?" General Caero said, turning to Peter. "As you said, your majesty, we do not know who took him. Therefore we have two options. We can surrender or we can keep fighting."

"What about King Edmund?" Halvar asked, almost threateningly.

Caero looked apologetic as he spoke, "We can do nothing for him."

"There has to be another option!" Peter pleaded.

"If there is, I cannot see it." Caero's face looked grim.

"I will go search for Edmund on my own if I must!" Halvar snapped. "You cannot ask me to abandon him!"

"You are a General!" Thergol told him. "You are needed here!"

"Then I will gladly give up the burden of that position," replied Halvar coolly. Yet when he turned to Peter, there was desperation in his eyes. "Please, your Majesty, let me go after your brother! Let me at least try to find and save him! I know you would rather we not abandon him. Give my position to another. Heredan, for instance, his tactical thinking will aid you in battle."

Peter was speechless. He could have cried from gratitude towards Halvar for the offer and giving them another option. Halvar, who had obviously taken his silence as a negative and now looked close to panicking.

He knelt and desperately continued his plight. "My King, I beg you! He is your Majesty's brother and my friend! Let me seek him! I will bring him back or die trying!"

Peter nodded. "Choose any horse," he said, not quite trusting his voice. "Find my brother!"

"But, your Majesty – " Thergol began to protest. Peter held up a hand to silence him.

"Go!" he said.

Halvar's face lit up. Hope was written across it. Something almost unfamiliar since the war had begun. He was going on what was essentially a suicide mission, yet he looked almost relieved.

"Thank you, my King!" he exclaimed.

"Good luck!" Peter replied. "And thank you, aswell!"

Halvar got up, bowed and almost ran towards the horses.

"Now," Peter said, turning to the remaining and feeling strangely hopeful, "Get somebody to fetch me Heredan. We have battle plans to discuss."

The fight wasn't over yet. He looked at the map. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw the lion in the centre of the compass incline his head in approval.

Aslan was with them!

With renewed determination and motivation, he got to work.


	7. Chapter 7 (Susan and Lucy)

**A/N: Probably a tad late, but...**

**Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review. I enjoy reading them and it makes me really happy that you are enjoying the story. Also thank you to the ones that left advice and tips to improve. You're amazing and you know who you are.**

**I recieved the question as to what species Halvar is and (I hope this answer doesn't annoy you too much) I will reveal that in a following chapter. So... stay hooked?**

**Thank you again for taking the time to read my stuff and a big hug to you all.**

**Drachma**

* * *

It was raining outside. Pouring buckets, really.

Queen Susan and Queen Lucy were sitting in the council room after another unsuccessful debate. These Archenlanders were getting rather annoying.

"What do you think we should do?" Susan asked her sister. "I have no desire to marry Prince Carin. Yet we need the troops and Sir Dunin is rather insistent that this alliance be sealed by a marriage."

"They're all so stubborn!" Lucy said. "What is it with old men and stubborness? In answer to your question though, I haven't the foggiest idea."

"I'm out of ideas aswell." Susan started pacing around the room. She reassessed everything in her head once more. Was there really no way out?

"You know what's funny?" Lucy said.

"What?" Susan asked.

"Well, I don't recall anyone mentioning Prince Carin even wanted to marry." Lucy had her thinking face on."You'd think they would ask his opinion, considering he's the crown prince. I mean, if he does want to marry you, he must really love you."

"What makes you say that?" Susan quiered, frowning slightly.

Lucy cocked her head to on side. "If he marries you, he loses political power in Archenland. Normally, he'd hand it over to a younger sibling but he doesn't have those." she said.

"Meaning, said power goes to the council!" Susan realised.

"Shouldn't we tell him?"

"Of course! The only question is, how?"

"What do you mean 'how'?" Lucy frowned. "We can send him a letter or something!"

"And you think he would believe us over his land's council?"

"Alright, you may have a point. We need proof first."

"Solid proof." Susan stopped pacing and looked to the ceiling. "We could invite him here, but the problem with that is the fact that we would need him to actively overhear them plotting against him. We also don't know if our speculations are correct."

"Rats!" Lucy huffed standing up. "I wish Edmund were here. He'd have this solved in no time!"

"Well he does have access to a very good spy network," Susan said, "a network we couldn't even find if we tried."

"Typical Ed! Always has to keep his secrets secret!"

The queens giggled. Then, they grew serious again.

"We'll ask our friends for help!" Lucy decided. "I'm sure they will help us."

"I'll have the birds and some dryards watch them. They're discreet."

"I'll ask the mice!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"What?" Lucy asked, "They're small and quiet!"

"Alright then." Susan said.

The sister's parted ways and hurried to find their 'helpers'. Susan heading for the trees in the courtyard and Lucy heading towards the cellar.

* * *

Diospria practically leapt out of her tree when Susan called her name, her eyes as kind as always.

"Your Majesty," she said, giving a curtesy.

"Diospria," Susan greeted, "I am sorry, but I must ask a favour of you."

"What is it, my queen?" Diospria asked, worry crossing her features.

"Come," Susan said, "Let us talk privately."

* * *

Meanwhile, Lucy was skipping down the steps (something her mother and Susan would scold her for if they knew) to the cellar .

"Hello!" She called.

"Queen Lucy!" A mouse with light brown fur ran out and bowed deeply. "It is an honour!"

"I know I asked you to help Mr. Tumnus with the calculations for the winter rations, but I have a more important job for you!"

"It's not something else with mathematics, is it?" Reepicorn, the chief of the mice, asked, "Forgive me, your majesty, but we are proud warriors."

"Yes," Lucy said "- and I'm sorry. I need you to do some spying for me, if you don't mind."

"On whom, my queen?"

"On the council members from Archenland. We suspect they may be plotting against their crown prince and, by extent, their king."

"It would be our honour!" Reepicorn said, bowing so low his nose almost brushed the floor.

"Just be discreet, please!" said Lucy.

"Please, your majesty, do not fear for we are the best people you could have asked for this job."

"Thank you." Lucy smiled.

"By your leave, your majesty."

The mice gave sweeping bows and scurried off. Lucy took a moment to think about her next move and skipped back upstairs. Where was Mr. Tumnus? She had a letter to draft and he was good at the political formulations. She was getting better with his help, but she was still writing rather informally. She also didn't understand the need for all the flowery language. That was a different case though.

Besides, Lucy and Tumnus could catch up over tea and cakes afterwards. They hadn't had the chance due to many... discussions with the council of Archenland lately.


	8. Chapter 8 (Halvar and Edmund)

**A/N: There is a panic attack in this chapter so if that hits too close to home for you, please wait for the next one. I don't want to trigger anyone. Especially because I know how it is.**

**Remember, your mental health comes first. Hugs!**

**Thanks, Drachma.**

* * *

Halvar pulled his cloak tighter and grit his teeth against the cold. Winter was most certainly on its way. That was a proble- that didn't matter. He was rescuing King Edmund.

He had decided to save the King so he would. He would find him and bring him back. He would uphold his self-sworn oath. He had to do this. He had to - he had...

He had no idea where to start.

Halvar had followed a trail he had picked up outside camp as far as it would go, leading him to an area of rocky terrain and ice. To winds that seemed to bite at his skin and get under his clothes. And now?

Now he was sufficiently lost. The first snow was gently falling, covering up the trail he had followed. There was no way to get back to the camp.

There wasn't much point carrying on in the building storm either.

Hurriedly, Halvar tried to find shelter. He would stay there until the tempestuous weather had died down into mildly terrible.

Settling under a rocky ledge, the best thing he found, he wrapped himself in his blanket and curled up against the mountainside he had been climbing.

Halvar closed his eyes and thought. It was unlikely that he could find King Edmund. Unlikely - yes. Not impossible. He would wait for the storm to pass and continue his search. There was bound to be something.

_The sun beat down on his back. Vultures circled above. The air smelt rotten and the dust of the desert was making breathing difficult._

_He continued to walk not knowing where they were dragging him. His feet felt like they were on fire. If he stopped they would kill him. The crack of a whip sounded. It was closely followed by searing pain on his shoulders._

_"Faster!" a heavily accented voice barked. "We don't want to be late."_

_Halvar stumbled on. The long walk would be over soon. The pain would be over soon._

_Another crack sounded._

Halvar woke with a start, his eyes darting around. No desert. Just snow. Cold snow and cold stone.

King Edmund.

Halvar jumped up and packed his blanket in his bag. He had a mission to complete.

Looking around again, he noticed all traces of trail he had followed were gone. There was no turning back now - not that there ever had been.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way further up the mountain. He needed a better view.

* * *

Edmund was sitting uncomfortably in a cell, chains around his wrists and ankles.

He shifted slightly.

How long had he been here? Where was he? And, most importantly, how could he escape?

His head hurt. So did his stomach and his throat.

When had he last eaten? His stomach gave a pained growl in response.

'What's the point of holding me hostage, if you're going to let me die of starvation?' he thought, annoyed. 'Idiots!'

As annoyed as he was, Edmund couldn't help the worry spreading through him. Who was keeping him here? And what did they want?

The cold felt like it was creeping into his bones. Tired, he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. Easier said than done, when the cell seemed to have ice spreading over it.

It felt like the witches cell. It had the same eeriness and chill to it. The same hopelessness.

Edmund had to get out of here.

He struggled with his bonds. No use.

His heart began to pound and his hands started shaking. He tried to take a breath.

He couldn't breath. _He couldn't breathe_.

His vision swam.

No. No no no no no!

Shoot! He clawed at his throat which felt as if a noose had been pulled around it.

Crap!

His stomach churned and he heaved. Several times. Had anything noteworthy been in his stomach, it would surely have come out then.

He choked out a sob. Then another and another.

What was happening?

He dissolved into tears. Sobs wracked his body. He was shaking as if he had been hit by lightning.

It took a while to die down.

Edmund took deep breaths. Some stuttering. He clenched and unclenched his hands a few times. They had balled themselves into fists earlier.

Exhaustion started to take a hold of him.

"Aslan help me!" he whispered desperately.

Just before he fell asleep, he felt a warm breath near his ear.

"Sleep, son of Adam. Naught is lost yet."


End file.
